History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3

by Henry Thomas Buckle

The results produced by this remarkable change are very curious, and from their energy and rapidity were very decisive. As long as the different classes confined themselves to pursuits peculiar to their own sphere, they were encouraged to preserve their separate habits; and the subordination, or, as it were, the hierarchy, of society was easily maintained. But when the members of the various orders met in the same place with the same object, they became knit together by a new sympathy. The highest and most durable of all pleasures, the pleasure caused by the perception of fresh truths, was now a great link, which banded together those social elements that were formerly wrapped up in the pride of their own isolation. Besides this, there was also given to them not only a new pursuit, but also a new standard of merit. In the amphitheatre and the lecture-room, the first object of attention is the professor and the lecturer. The division is between those who teach and those who learn. The subordination of ranks makes way for the subordination of knowledge.[1147] The petty and conventional distinctions of fashionable life are succeeded by those large and genuine distinctions, by which alone man is really separated from man. The progress of the intellect supplies a new object of veneration; the old worship of rank is rudely disturbed, and its superstitious devotees are taught to bow the knee before what to them is the shrine of a strange god. The hall of science is the temple of democracy. Those who come to learn, confess their own ignorance, abrogate in some degree their own superiority, and begin to perceive that the greatness of men has no connexion with the splendour of their titles, or the dignity of their birth; that it is not concerned with their quarterings, their escutcheons, their descents, their dexter-chiefs, their sinister-chiefs, their chevrons, their bends, their azures, their gules, and the other trumperies of their heraldry; but that it depends upon the largeness of their minds, the powers of their intellect, and the fullness of their knowledge.

These were the views which, in the latter half of the eighteenth century, began to influence those classes which had long been the undisputed masters of society.[1148] And what shows the strength of this great movement is, that it was accompanied by other social changes, which, though in themselves apparently trifling, become full of meaning when taken in connexion with the general history of the time.

While the immense progress of physical knowledge was revolutionizing society, by inspiring the different classes with an object common to all, and thus raising a new standard of merit, a more trivial, but equally democratic tendency was observable even in the conventional forms of social life. To describe the whole of these changes would occupy a space disproportioned to the other parts of this Introduction; but it is certain that, until the changes have been carefully examined, it will be impossible for any one to write a history of the French Revolution. As a specimen of what I mean, I will notice two of these innovations which are very conspicuous, and are also interesting on account of their analogy with what has happened in English society.

The first of these changes was an alteration in dress, and a marked contempt for those external appearances hitherto valued as one of the most important of all matters. During the reign of Louis XIV., and indeed during the first half of the reign of Louis XV., not only men of frivolous tastes, but even those distinguished for their knowledge, displayed in their attire a dainty precision, a nice and studied adjustment, a pomp of gold, of silver, and of ruffles, such as in our days can nowhere be seen, except in the courts of European princes, where a certain barbarian splendour is still retained. So far was this carried, that in the seventeenth century the rank of a person might be immediately known by his appearance; no one presuming to usurp a garb worn by the class immediately above his own.[1149] But in that democratic movement which preceded the French Revolution, the minds of men became too earnest, too intent upon higher matters, to busy themselves with those idle devices which engrossed the attention of their fathers. A contemptuous disregard of such distinctions became general. In Paris the innovation was seen even in those gay assemblies, where a certain amount of personal decoration is still considered natural. At dinners, suppers, and balls, it is noticed by contemporary observers, that the dress usually worn was becoming so simple as to cause a confusion of ranks, until at length every distinction was abandoned by both sexes; the men, on such occasions, coming in a common frock-coat, the women in their ordinary morning gowns.[1150] Nay, to such a pitch was this carried, that we are assured by the Prince de Montbarey, who was in Paris at the time, that shortly before the Revolution, even those who had stars and orders were careful to hide them by buttoning their coats, so that these marks of superiority might no longer be seen.[1151]

The other innovation to which I have referred is equally interesting as characteristic of the spirit of the time. This is, that the tendency to amalgamate the different orders of society[1152] was shown in the institution of clubs; a remarkable contrivance, which to us seems perfectly natural because we are accustomed to it, but of which it may be truly said, that until the eighteenth century its existence was impossible. Before the eighteenth century, each class was so jealous of its superiority over the one below it, that to meet together on equal terms was impracticable; and although a certain patronizing familiarity towards one's inferiors might be safely indulged in, this only marked the immense interval of separation, since the great man had no fear of his condescension being abused. In those good old times a proper respect was paid to rank and birth; and he who could count his twenty ancestors was venerated to an extent of which we, in these degenerate days, can hardly form an idea. As to any thing like social equality, that was a notion too preposterous to be conceived; nor was it possible that any institution should exist which placed mere ordinary men on a level with those illustrious characters, whose veins were filled with the purest blood, and the quarterings of whose arms none could hope to rival.

But in the eighteenth century the progress of knowledge became so remarkable, that the new principle of intellectual superiority made rapid encroachments on the old principle of aristocratic superiority. As soon as these encroachments had reached a certain point, they gave rise to an institution suited to them; and thus it was that there were first established clubs, in which all the educated classes could assemble, without regard to those other differences which, in the preceding period, kept them separate. The peculiarity of this was, that, for mere purposes of social enjoyment, men were brought into contact, who, according to the aristocratic scheme, had nothing in common, but who were now placed on the same footing in so far as they belonged to the same establishment, conformed to the same rules, and reaped the same advantages. It was, however, expected that the members, though varying in many other respects, were to be all, in some degree, educated; and in this way society first distinctly recognized a classification previously unknown; the division between noble and ignoble being succeeded by another division between educated and uneducated.

The rise and growth of clubs is, therefore, to the philosophic observer, a question of immense importance; and it is one which, as I shall hereafter prove, played a great part in the history of England during the latter half of the eighteenth century. In reference to our present subject, it is interesting to observe, that the first clubs, in the modern sense of the word, which ever existed in Paris, were formed about 1782, only seven years before the French Revolution. At the beginning they were merely intended to be social assemblages; but they quickly assumed a democratic character, conformable to the spirit of the age. Their first result, as was noticed by a keen observer of what was then passing, was to make the manners of the upper classes more simple than they had hitherto been, and to weaken that love of form and ceremony suitable to their earlier habits. These clubs likewise effected a remarkable separation between the sexes; and it is recorded, that after their establishment, women associated more with each other, and were oftener seen in public unaccompanied by men.[1153] This had the effect of encouraging among men a republican roughness, which the influence of the other sex would have tended to keep down. All these things effaced the old lines of demarcation between the different ranks, and by merging the various classes into one, made the force of their united opposition irresistible, and speedily overthrew both the church and the state. The exact period at which the clubs became political cannot, of course, be ascertained, but the change seems to have taken place about 1784.[1154] From this moment all was over; and although the government, in 1787, issued orders to close the leading club, in which all classes discussed political questions, it was found impossible to stem the current. The order, therefore, was rescinded; the club re-assembled, and no further attempt was made to interrupt that course of affairs which a long train of preceding events had rendered inevitable.[1155]

While all these things were conspiring to overthrow the old institutions, an event suddenly occurred which produced the most remarkable effects in France, and is itself strikingly characteristic of the spirit of the eighteenth century. On the other side of the Atlantic, a great people, provoked by the intolerable injustice of the English government, rose in arms, turned on their oppressors, and, after a desperate struggle, gloriously obtained their independence. In 1776, the Americans laid before Europe that noble Declaration, which ought to be hung up in the nursery of every king, and blazoned on the porch of every royal palace. In words, the memory of which can never die, they declared, that the object of the institution of government is to secure the rights of the people; that from the people alone it derives its powers; and ‘that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute a new government, laying its foundations on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.’[1156]